


Petals and Ink

by LittleSilverBirds



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-15 06:55:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3437759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSilverBirds/pseuds/LittleSilverBirds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The piercer teased him about it, saying he was really soft for a guy with a more tattoos than fingers and toes. He usually told him to go fuck himself. If he could come in late then he could be as "soft" as he wanted. He also made teased him about being sweet on the guy at the florists and how that was the only reason he kept buying the lilies. But there was no denying that in two years he had come to enjoy going next door for the flowers every other day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a piece of tumblr trash and this AU is really cute, and there might be a teeny sequel to it u never know. Anyways, dont take my word for anything involving tattooing, I have a very basic knowledge in that where I live you have to be eighteen to get a tattoo and its painful and teenage boys usually get them to prove their manliness.  
> ALWAYS DO YOUR RESEARCH BEFORE GETTING ANY TATTOOS OR PIERCINGS

The lilies wilted after about four days, that meant a trip next door every four days. Flowers might have been seen to be a little out of place in a tattoo parlour but the white offset the dark stained wood furnishings and deep red on the walls. The piercer got his way with the decor, saying nearly every place had black and white and the red looked so much cooler. As a compromise he let Castiel do basically whatever he wanted. So he put the lilies in the window and play something that wasnt metal over the speakers while he worked on his designs and organised appointments.

Gabriel, the piercer, teased him about it, saying he was really soft for a guy with a more tattoos than fingers and toes. He usually told him to go fuck himself. If he could come in late then he could be as "soft" as he wanted. He also made teased him about being sweet on the guy at the florists and how that was the only reason he kept buying the lilies. He was just being horrible and stereotyping that he liked men just because he sold flowers. But there was no denying that in two years he had come to enjoy going next door for the flowers every other day and was on first name terms with the owner. The man even set aside a bunch for when he came round.

And the florist, Dean, was no stranger to tattoos himself, they'd spent around ten minutes one day just discussing tattoos. Only Castiel had significantly more than Deans simple black line pentacle on his chest, he said it was apparently a spur of the moment thing when he turned twenty, and he'd forgotten why he got it. He had another in mind, apparently, Vonneguts birdcage, but had no idea where he'd put it. Castiel would have spent more time discussing it but his first client was at ten.

Another sixteen year old who realised their new found freedom to get metal on their face walked out of the back with the sort of smile like they were damn pleased with their snake bites but oh my God what will dad say? They got a lot of them through their door, Gabriel had a good rep as a piercer because he made them laugh by telling them dirty jokes. He had the mind of a child sometimes but he was professional. Castiel got all the sorority girls and frat boys looking to get those group tattoos to remember their sorority years and proving how manly they were. Only Cas knew a secret the boys didnt want spread around and that was they cried more than the girls did.

He had just such an appointment in ten minutes, five eighteen year old guys all wanting the same simple fraternity insignia on their ankles. Now he'd warned them it was painful but they were adamant they could take it. He'd bought some Little Miss Sunshine tissues just to be spiteful for when half of them did end up crying.

* * *

 

The lilies managed to overpower the smell of disinfectant which could intimidate some people where it reassured other people they kept a clean place. As a substitute they kept their certificates on display in the front room. He thought he should probably change the type of flowers at some point, but people kept commenting on them saying it was a nice touch, some of the more poetic ones told them they liked whatever deep meaning they thought the flowers held. No one ever told them otherwise.

Today was the day he needed to grab another bunch, and there was a young girl at the counter wrapping bouquets in pastel coloured cellophane and ribbons. He didnt know her face, she was a short, blonde girl who looked like she really was trying extra hard to look happy. She looked up when the shop bell dinged upon his entry, and plastered a smile on her face that looked incredibly practised, much like Castiels ' _Its monday morning piss off_ ' smile as he worked his way through bookings and appointments.

"Hi," she said in that rehearsed way, "What can I do you for?"

The same thing Dean usually said, before he got to know him and the greeting was just 'Lilies?' because he knew his preference by now.

"Uh, lilies," he replied, he knew he was getting checked out here. It was hot out, so he just had this vest thing on showing off his sleeve and a half. They usually attracted some attention. Then the worst happened, and she asked him how big, what wrap, and all these specifications he had no idea about. And in the midst of it, "She likes lilies, does she?"

He almost said yes because he and Gabe frequently referred to the shop as 'she' and 'her' most of the time, until it dawned on him that she meant a girlfriend. Of which he didnt have. Maybe it was a subtle way of asking if he was single. Which he was. But she also looked like she was about twelve and could probably kill him.

Dean emerged from the back room then to save him from his torment and set about grabbing the usual small bunch of lilies and tied them with the simple crimson ribbon. And as usual he handed him the five and he kept the change.

"Thats Jo," Dean told him as he handed over the flowers. "She's got a job here as a favour to her mom. She hates the apron," he smiled warmly as the girl gave him a shove for his insolence, and he seemed to remember she was still here. "Oh yeah, Jo this is Cas. He owns the place next door."

She nodded like it was obvious, which it sort of was, "Rebel Angel, right? My friend got tattooed there." If she expected him to know who she was talking about she was in for a disappointment. A lot of people had friends and a lot of people got tattoos.

"Well, thats the artist right there," Dean went on, "Comes in every other day for flowers for the shop. I think its pretty cool."

"You and your gay ass would," the girl muttered, "Hey could you do me a deal on a tattoo? Mates rates?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Are you eighteen?"

"Well, no but-"

"Then no, I'm not tattooing you. Sorry, I dont make the rules," he gave her an apologetic shrug and sucked his labret before turning back to Dean trying not to linger too long on the freckles and green eyes, "See you later then."

And he dragged himself away, thinking he definitely heard Jo tell Dean how nice his ass was, and Dean telling her to shut up or he'd dock her pay. He could only laugh quietly to himself and take his leave.

* * *

 

A particularly slow day saw him sitting at the front desk swinging on his chair doing sketches on the notepad they were supposed to use for stock taking and phone bookings, of which he had absolutely none. A few people wandered in and he got hopeful for a second before he realised they were only there to look at the art on the walls and leave, maybe ask a few questions and get pricings even though they were literally all listed very clearly next to every picture. The only thing really going on was Gabriel doing piercings and routine checks, and he'd cleaned all his equipment twice over, everything was clean, sterile and spotless. Heck he even washed the windows and went back over the stuff on the chalk board. There was nothing for him to do besides deal with people coming in to look at the friggin' pictures. The only reason half of them came in was because they had AC in here and it was like a thousand degrees outside.

Gabe came through at some point and sidestepped around him to change the music to something heavier and less Castiels taste. Just to irritate him, it seemed. But he stood there glaring at him until he dropped the pencil and demanded to know why the fuck he was staring.

"Because apparently you're too dumb to take the hint," he said, taking the notepad from him to point out the several birds and cages he'd scribbled with a pen. "Leave. Go. Now. Take a lunch break, go grab your life preserving coffee with your boy next door, hook up, I dont care. Just get out of the shop because your boredom is getting on my nerves."

"I'm not even doing anything!" he grabbed for the pad but Gabriel held it out of reach, which was a miracle for a man that short.

"Thats my point," he snapped, "Get the fuck out before I make you."

"Fine, asshole!" Castiel grabbed the wallet from his jacket and stalked off out into the heat, because he knew he wouldn't win this one. When Gabriel got stubborn he was worse than Castiel.

And against himself he stopped outside the florists, debating whether or not to actually go in and ask if Dean would take lunch with him. In the end he stepped inside, finding him adjusting a few bunches near the window and the man looked surprised to find him there, but pleasantly so because he smiled and abandoned the flowers to talk to him.

"You were just in the other day, have they wilted already?" he asked, looking about ready to go get him another bunch. "Maybe its the heatwave, they sit in a window so they might be getting dried up or something."

"No its uh, well," he looked about him a little nervously, sincerely hoping he wasnt actually blushing like he thought he was. And a single carnation caught his eye, sitting on its own in a bunch of white flowers hastily arranged on the obsessively colour coordinated shelf. Dean put all the flowers into colour groups, pale colours, dark colours, bright colours, he was near manic. He wouldnt have put a pink carnation in the centre of a white bunch. He plucked it out and held it up, "Can I get just this one?"

Dean gave him a strange, amused glance but confirmed that yes he could just buy that one random flower. He didnt know why the carnation had bothered him so much. It just did. But Dean rang it up anways and Castiel handed over the mere change for it and tried to figure out what the hell he was doing.

"That looked awfully like you're just lookin' for an excuse to talk to me," Dean mumbled, "Whats the real reason you came in?"

"Well," he started, twirling the stem in his fingers, "I was gonna ask if you've got an hour for lunch? Just I'm at a loose end and uh..." he glared at the pink petals and suddenly it was a really good idea to be bold as brass and just hand the little thing over to Dean again, "Thats uh, you can...have this?"

"Um okay, wow," Dean chuckled a little nervously and took the little flower and his cheeks were as pink as it was. A perfect match. "I dunno what to uh...thats real sweet Cas."

And heres the big no homo let-down where he looks like a creepy prick for buying a flower from a dude just to give it back to him and ask him out on a lunchdate. This would be the source of a lot of teasing from Gabe for weeks to come no doubt.

"You caught me a little off guard there Cas," he went on, plucking at the little bumps on the stem, "I-I'm covered in pollen and planty shit."

"I dont care," shit, _too eager Castiel, you fucking creep_. "I- I mean I dont mind, I didnt- shit," he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "I'm sorry, you dont-"

"You _really_ wouldnt mind goin' out with a guy covered in orange dust?"

His heart gave a strange little hopeful half beat, "N-no not at all! I'm not desperate I just- I think its...cute?"

Dean laughed there, almost bashfully. "Well thats just plain adorable. You were hot before and now you're really cute."

"Cant I be both?" he half mumbled, somehow managing to avoid stammering this time. People said he had a crooked smile when he got bashful and it apparently confused them because the tattoos said 'badass' and the little smile said 'cute small thing.' He didnt really know what they meant and he didnt think of himself as badass either.

Dean was chuckling fondly and slipping the apron off even as he spoke, "We'll have to see about that, wont we?"

And, surprisingly, he was looking forward to having lunch with this green eyed man with yellow dust in his hair.


	2. Chapter 2

First his only appointment cancelled and he was stuck for an hour and a half with nothing to do because Dean was busy with like, two weddings, a funeral and a birthday to do flowers for, and Gabriel was too busy with piercings and such to pay much notice. And on top of everything else there was supposed to be an order coming in that didn't turn up, when he called they just said it'd be there tomorrow and no explanation. Gabriel eventually told him to just go home at four, he'd close up. Probably because he looked like hammered crap and like he'd snap and go on a killing spree at any second.

And it was pouring rain, there'd been a thunderstorm earlier. Of course, the moron he was, didnt bring a jacket and had walked to work since it was a perfectly fucking nice morning. Gabriel offered to drive him but just then a granny walked in and said, of all fucking things, _"How much do you charge for clitoris piercings?"_ Now they'd heard some pretty weird shit over the years, including but not limited to someone asking for their tonsils pierced and someone wanting a tattoo of his face on his face (they're still not sure what kind of drugs he was on) but this was definitely up there with the weirdest. Thus Gabriel had to consult the grey haired, not so innocent old lady/internally debate whether he had enough balls to actually perform this act of immense horror, so no ride home for Castiel.

His flat was pretty dark, lonely and cold when he got home, pretty soaked and miserable. And it smelled like flowers, which usually meant Dean was over straight after work and for a moment he was hopeful. But the rest of the place was just as dark, and he wouldn't have been done with his own work just yet. Instead there was a bouquet and an envelope on the kitchen counter, which explained the floral scent. It was just a simple card from the shop inside, with Deans scrawly, rushed handwriting inside.

_"I didn't forget!! Sorry I was so busy babe I'll make it up to you later, promise."_

It coaxed a little smile from him, the first of the day. But it was gone as soon as it appeared. A miserable birthday, start to finish. Well at least Dean remembered, his own family didn't bother with a call or even a text. It wasn't surprising, they'd not-so-subtly brushed him off when he'd tried to arrange for them to meet Dean telling him "that wouldn't be a good idea." At least he knew he'd made the effort.

Deans family weren't perfect either but they were the good kind of patchwork family where not everyone was a carbon copy of the other but they were all close. Sam and Dean had trouble with their dad but at least they still spoke which was more than he could say for himself. They accepted him, took him in as part of the family, didn't care he was essentially a human canvas. And Dean was still interested in him after five months which was great.

He tried the lights only to find the switch clicked fruitlessly. The lamps and the TV refused to turn on too. He knew he'd paid the electricity so what the fuck- Oh, shit. Powercut. He'd noticed the other flats had no lights on either but didn't think anything of it.

"Great," he threw his arms up, "Fucking _great_!"

He took the card with him to the couch, too tired and frustrated to go to bed. It was too early anyway. But he was so damn tired, he could just take a little nap or something, he'd be fine. He was always fine, really. Just one bad day out of all the good ones. One really bad fucking day.

He didn't realise he'd actually fallen asleep until someone knocked on the door. It was dark outside, and he was sure it was raindrops he could see on the window, still raining then. He quickly checked his phone as he sat up rubbing his eyes, but no texts or calls waited for him. He tried not to be too disappointed about it, but when your family forgets your birthday it stings a little. He consoled himself by thinking that Gabriel was probably either fabulously drunk trying to forget the old lady or still in shock and unable to text.

The walk to the door was longer than usual. And whoever was there knocked again before he opened it, and he apologised for taking so long only to be talked over by his visitor apologising for being so late.

"I know its late," it was nearly nine in fact, "But I figured I had time cos I had one wedding cancel on me cos the groom ran away with her sister and the funeral was- y'know what? Never mind. I just hope y'dont mind me smelling like calla lilies and roses for the rest of the night."

Dean stood there outside his door and God it was more than he could've asked for. His sandy hair all damp from the rain, he still had his work shirt and yellow-stained jeans on but he didn't care.

"I've got..." he dug through one of the plastic bags in his hands, "You already got the flowers so uh, I've got a movie and take out- fuck, have you eaten yet? Whatever, I got a lot of food. And I have this," he pulled out a bottle of fancy looking wine, "Your favourite, because take out isn't fancy enough- whoa watch the goods!"

He was complaining because Castiel threw his arms round his neck and held him tight. For some reason he felt like crying when this was a situation for exactly the opposite. Dean was the best man he could ask for and didn't deserve, and he just made his horrible day a thousand times better.

"Gabe told me you weren't havin' the best of days," he murmured, wrapping his arms round Cas anyway and walking him backwards inside. "And I felt bad for workin' the whole day, I got here soon as I finished."

He didn't have words for how happy he was, maybe he was just really damn tired, so he stayed quiet about it, letting Dean do the talking as they walked inside and started to forget the day already.

* * *

 

He woke up happy. And late. His alarm hadn't gone off and he'd slept in three hours, Gabriel would be pissed. They hadn't even stayed up overly late, just ate their take out while watching the movie on the laptop with just enough of the wine to make him pliant and relax all the tense muscles. But before he could jump up Dean came in, telling him " _No_ " like a parent scolding a child, pointing a finger at him from the doorway.

"Nope! The world can deal without its greatest tattoo artist for one day, c'mon you deserve a break," he interrupted when Castiel began to protest about how he was late. "No you're _sick_. We're both _sick_ today, which means you're not working and neither am I."

"I see," he leaned back on his elbows. Dean had called in sick for both of them then, probably some bullshit excuse about food poisoning, or maybe like that time he called in sick with 'an allergic reaction to the neighbours cat.' He was such an idiot God he loved him. "And what did the _doctor_ prescribe?"

Dean smirked at him, "Breakfast in bed, lots of attention from yours truly and maybe the rest of that wine later. Sound good?"

 

"Better than sex."

He almost fucking pouted then, "I'm insulted," and ducked back out of the room presumably back to the kitchen as Castiel flopped back onto the pillows with a grin on his face.

"Am I gonna get the same treatment when we're married?" he yelled, hearing Dean laugh in the kitchen.

"Marry me and find out!"

"That a proposal, Winchester?" he called, but received no reply. He didn't care. Rolling over and pressing his face into Deans pillow was a very good idea right now. He hadn't had much time to really relax lately. Between sketching, consultations, actually tattooing and orders that didn't turn up, he'd just been wound up so damn tight and he couldn't think of a better way to wind down than a day off spent with Dean to make him forget the whole ordeal. Hell, he loved his job but sometimes you just needed a break from it all. He must've nodded off again because he never even heard Dean come back in, first he knew of his presence was a hand running up his spine, over the pentagram in the centre and across to the right wing. Cas grinned into the pillow at Deans half-grumpy "C'mon sleepyhead I've got food."

He could really get used to this, five months and he was already planning a future with this dork. He rolled over in the end and sat up, letting Dean sit down with his tray for two. Well, baking tray, he didnt have actual meal trays. There was a heap of French toast and pancakes, but also bacon and an excessively large cupcake with a candle stuck in it which Dean lit as soon as the tray was in a stable position.

"Its your replacement-birthday," he explained, "Since we didn't do anything yesterday and you kinda had a shitty day I thought we could do the birthday stuff today."

"You honestly didn't have to do any of this-"

" _Yes_ I _did_ now blow out your candle and make a wish so we can eat, asshat," Dean grumbled fondly with a kiss to his cheek.

He could've said something cheesy like _'I already have all I wished for'_ or whatever but neither of them were into that crap. So he obliged Dean, blew out the candle and scowled at him, awaiting approval.

"What'd you wish for?" he asked as he tucked into some French toast.

"A monster truck," Castiel replied, sampling the bacon which was a little crispier than he liked but who was he to complain? They ate their breakfast pretty much silently, apart from the odd inquiry about the food and Castiel reassuring him it was genuinely good and he wasn't lying for Deans benefit. He heard music from the living room, leading him to believe the electricity was back as if the breakfast wasn't evidence enough, and sunlight peeking in through the curtains told him it was much better weather than last night. Maybe it was just one bad day.

"Oh yeah," Dean said around a mouthful of pancakes as Castiel reached for his phone on the night stand, "Gabriel sounded a little weird this morning, what's up with him?"

He chuckled to himself looking down at his phone, "He's bleaching his eyeballs."

"What?" Cas simply turned the phone towards him to show him the texts.

_**Gabe:** fuck this _

_**Gabe:** no amount of booze will make me forget what i saw _

_**Gabe:** I'm bleaching my eyes an moving to alaska to live as a yeti_

"Wait _what the_ -" Dean nearly choked on coffee and Castiel was slowly dissolving into giggles, utterly manly giggles. He, in all honesty, felt sorry for the man. Deans bewildered and slightly concerned face wasn't helping him sober up enough to explain that Gabriel was still in shock from bejewelling a senior citizens downstairs region.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one didnt live up to the first part but a couple of you wanted a next bit and I thought some classic bad-day-made-better stuff would suffice. I played around with numerous ideas before I settled on this one and I might come back and edit it or change it but here you go!   
> Comments and feedback appreciated!!  
> Sidenote: The clit-piercing wasnt meant to be offensive, just a little joke since every stereotypical dude on the face of the earth says the best way to kill a boner is naked grannies or something and Gabes kinda the stereotypical dudebro if you ask me


End file.
